Taking Care
by Zelda Ophelia
Summary: When Castle is injured on the job, it's Beckett who sees him home.


**Note:** This was written for reaperwriter for the 2009 Yuletide Fic Exchange. Thanks to Elenna for betaing.  
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"Ow!" Castle yowled as the door swung shut against his leg. He wobbled a bit before leaning heavily against the doorjamb. "That hurt!"

"I'm not surprised," Beckett said from behind him. She stepped around him, carefully avoiding his injured leg, and pushed the door back open. She continued, as she held it for him, "This would be why I offered to help, if you would just let me."

"I'm fine," he said grouchily, slowly moving past her and into the thankfully quiet loft. "This isn't my first time on crutches, you know," he continued, leaning them against the wall as he shrugged his coat off. He threw it in the general vicinity of a chair, pointedly ignoring the fact that it slid to the ground instead. And that she picked it up, draping it over the back as she followed him through the apartment.

"Really?" she asked, sarcasm heavy in her voice. "I wouldn't have known given the way you've been carrying on."

"I have not been carrying on," he shot back as he lowered himself onto the couch. He nearly groaned out loud as he lifted his leg onto the coffee table and leaned back into the thick cushions.

"Of course not," Beckett said, a small smile playing about her lips. "You've just been very vocal about your injury. I think you insisted on telling everyone at the precinct your version of what happened."

"I _was_ injured in the line of duty," Castle reminded her, trying not to wince while he shifted his leg in an attempt to get more comfortable. He was not going to show pain in front of Kate Beckett. He _did_ wince as he shifted again, deciding that a little pain wasn't bad. As long as he was obviously manly enough to handle it. On his own. Without anyone taking care of him.

"You fell down the stairs," she countered.

"I was _pushed_ down the stairs by our bad guy. Resulting in a compound fracture of my tibula. Or was fiblia?" he said, tripping over the words as he grabbed a throw pillow--some gaudy thing his mother had insisted matched the sofa (though he had yet to see it)--and tried to situate it under his casted leg. It was more difficult than he remembered, though, truthfully, the last time he'd been on crutches it had been a sprained ankle, and he'd still been able to move most of his leg. Unlike now, where he literally had to lift it up to try to--

"Here," Beckett said softly, taking the pillow from him. He closed his eyes as she lifted his leg, sliding the pillow underneath. "How's that?"

"Better," he said. "Much better. Thanks." He gave her a relieved look, pleased she wasn't making a big deal out of helping him. The teasing he could handle; anything else he wasn't so sure.

"Of course." She looked around the empty loft. "Where is everyone?"

"Theater," he answered, leaning back again. "Alexis needs a certain number of arts-related hours for her IB Diploma program. So she's been volunteering at the theater."

"So your mom can keep an eye on her," Beckett reasoned.

"More likely the other way around," Castle joked, looking up and grinning at her. "You have met my mother and my daughter."

"True," Beckett grinned, leaning her hip against the chair opposite him. "Alexis is the most responsible member of the Castle family I've met. I've always wondered how that happened."

"Evolved out of necessity," he commented wryly. The painkillers were working their magic, deadening the ache in his leg to a dull throb. And, unfortunately, affecting his usually witty repartee. "Someone has to keep the rest of us out of trouble."

"Which, unfortunately for you, only works when she's around," Beckett said lightly, though, when he glanced over at her, the look on her face was more serious.

"Yeah, good thing she wasn't today," he mumbled, letting his eyes drift shut again. "That wasn't something she needed to be in the middle of."

"It wasn't something _you_ needed to be in the middle of, Castle," Beckett said solemnly. "You're lucky you got away with just a broken leg."

"Don't worry." He waved his hand as he spoke. "I'm not going to let my lawyer talk me into suing the NYPD or the city."

"I'm not worried about you suing the department." There was something in her voice that made him look up. Her arms were crossed stiffly in front of her chest, and there was a look on her face that almost seemed... concerned?

"What's this? Kate Beckett actually worried? About little ol' me? Did hell freeze over and no one let me know?" Castle teased, as much out of habit as self-preservation. He didn't think he could handle Beckett being solicitous, getting upset on his behalf, trying to take care of him. Not right now. Not when he was drugged to the gills and on the verge of saying - or doing - something he would possibly regret. Not to mention that if he _did_ do something, and it _did_ result in the best possible outcome (Kate Beckett. Naked. In his bed. Moaning his--he got the picture.), he really wanted to be able to remember it in the morning. And right now, with as fuzzy as his head was getting, he wasn't certain he would be able to.

She reacted just as he expected, stiffening and pinning him with a glare that would normally have him tripping over himself to backtrack. "Not worried about you, Castle. Worried about the effect this could have on the precinct, on my team," she bit out harshly.

He waved his hand again as his eyes drifted back shut. "Yeah, yeah. Sure, Beckett. Exactly what you said."

"Castle-" She sounded more exasperated now than hurt, but he couldn't quite bring himself to look.

"No, no. I understand." He yawned around the words. "You know, you don't need to hang around; you got me home in one piece. I'll be fine."

"Sorry, Castle," she said from somewhere to his right. He could hear her moving around, something rustling softly. "You're stuck with me until someone else gets home."

He was about to respond, tell her that he was fine on his own, it wasn't going to be that much longer before his family returned, but the words got caught in a yawn that wouldn't end. He mumbled something unintelligible instead, snuggling further down into the overstuffed sofa. Something soft and warm settled over him, and he could feel gentle hands tucking the thick blanket around him.

"Get some rest, Castle," Beckett said softly, pushing his hair back from his forehead.

He tried to memorize the feel of her touch, even as he drifted away into nothingness.


End file.
